One of the Boys
by justonedimple
Summary: Bella is an honarary member of the Boy's Club - but a stray, off-hand comment spurs her to make a change that indefinitely affects the heart of a close friend back in Forks.
1. Spiders and Silly Lunchtimes

**Disclaimer: **Everything you recognise belongs to Stephenie Meyer. Sob, sob, cry, cry, and cry.

**A/N: **Just a little story that I cooked up at 12:11AM. Hot, I know. :)

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_I saw a spider, I didn't scream  
'Cause I can belch the alphabet, just double dog dare me. _

Oh for goodness' sakes.

I sat calmly in my chair and watched the "scary" spider scuttle harmlessly across the floor, right under my feet. The shrill screams that pierced the air as my partner Lauren and her friend Jessica scooted away from the "hideous creature" – as Lauren had described it – left a dull ringing in my ears.

"Someone, kill it!" Jessica sobbed.

That was enough for me. I stood up and walked over to the little bug, now scurrying its way towards the back of the classroom.

I raised my sneakered foot right above it and stamped the poor little guy into the disgusting blue and green carpet.

_Sorry, buddy. _

The whole room was quiet as I returned to my seat, barely acknowledging Mr Banner's lack of effort to calm the fretting girls down. Huffing, I plonked myself back into my uncomfortable plastic chair and muttered an exasperated, "Honestly…"

Mr Banner cleared his throat and said, "Well… yes. Let's get back to work, then, shall we?"

Pfft… Pansy.

I reopened the textbook I had slammed shut in my exasperation, and flipped quickly to the Post-It Note marked page that held all the information and resource pages for the assignment I would be doing _alone _on the effects of Alice in Wonderland Syndrome. It was rather interesting disorder, affecting an individual's perception of size – hence the name "Alice in Wonderland Syndrome".

I was just about to notate a source that I could potentially use, when a sharp sting throbbed from the corner of my right eye. Fuckity-fuck-fuck. I pressed a finger to the source of the pain, and when I withdrew it, there was a small sliver of blood on my fingertip. A paper-cut? Really?

What the fuck gave me a paper-cut?

I scanned my table, and found a small piece of scrunched-up paper – lying smack-bang in the middle of the textbook – that had definitely not been present before.

How could I not have felt that hit me?

Shaking the thought, I picked up the dastardly paper and unfurled the wrinkled paper to reveal a scrawly script that could only belong to Emmett Cullen.

_Chill, Bells… We boys know you don't like killing little bugs, but you did the right thing. I don't think any of us could've withstood another second of that screeching. Smiley face._

Idiot, he doesn't even draw a proper smiley face – just writes the words. I re-scrunched the paper and heard an extremely loud gasp from the other side of the room. I turned to see Emmett looking severely scandalised, eyes wide and looking at the paper in my hand.

I was confused for a couple of seconds before I realised… He was shocked that I'd scrunched up a note from him, the wonderful and magnificent Emmett Cullen the Third.

He wasn't really a "the Third", but he liked to pretend.

Like I said: Idiot.

I picked up my blue pen yet again, and almost as soon as I'd touched the tip to my paper, the bell rang, signalling the end of Period Four and the start of lunch.

I sighed heavily, _just my luck. _

Grimacing at Lauren, I scrambled all my stuff into a pile that would fit in my arms and looked around the classroom as I was leaving. All the boys had gone, yet again.

They did this every single lesson before lunch – escape as soon as possible, so that they could reach the cafeteria and fill their fat gobs with the most amount of food possible for a group of sixteen year old boys.

Huffing that they didn't wait for me, I exited the room carefully wriggled and _graciously _manoeuvred my way through the throng of students that flooded in from the classrooms and almost gave in to the temptation to do my special happy dance right there in the middle of the hallway when I finally got past the last classroom without tripping over. _Almost._

I did, however, breathe a very happy sigh of relief and turned the corner that would lead to the massive double doors of the cafeteria. I shifted my books into the crook of my left elbow and used my hip and right hand to budge the door open, wincing as it squealed and groaned in protest.

Some random freshman walked in after me, and I figured that they could hold the door open by themself so I walked into the cafeteria, looking at my feet so there was no possibility of me stacking it like the big loser I am.

I knew exactly where our table was, even looking at my feet, and when I got there, I dumped by books with a loud thud, seated myself, looked up at the three amused faces of my best friends and said, "Fuck you. Every single one of you."

They glanced at me innocently for about… ten seconds, before I raised my eyebrow into an arch perfected at the age of ten and they burst into several rounds of raucous laughter.

Once I'd hit them enough to get them to stop, I reiterated. "Seriously, you guys know that I fall over all the time, and yet you insist on leaving me alone to walk in a crowded corridor where I could quite possibly trip over a stray foot…"

I stared at each of them and could tell they were all trying to hold in their laughter. I gave in. "Oh, for goodness' sakes, just laugh."

That set them off, big time. It took five or six minutes for them to quieten down to random after-chuckles.

I glowered.

They smiled.

Emmett broke the silence. "Can we _please _get some food? A boy like me needs sustenance, people."

I nodded and we all stood up and got into the line – there was only three people in front of us this time. Score.

I tried to look over Emmett's shoulder so that I could get a good look at what I wanted, but I knew that it was an epic fail, so I gave up.

Emmett McCarty was the biggest sixteen-year-old I'd ever known – including that Jacob kid from the Rez. His muscular frame dominated almost all places, and every time I spoke to him, I felt like I'd have to either break my neck, or stand on a chair. Yeah, he was that tall.

His curly black hair bounced with every step he took and I could never resist tugging on one curl, just to see it bounce. The stark difference between Emmett and the second quarter of our quartet, Jasper Whitlock, was frightening.

Jasper had naturally blonde hair, and when I say blonde, I mean blonde-to-the-point-where-it-borders-on-platinum. He had the same blue eyes as Emmett, but they were bigger and his hair – which was longer than either of the other two boys – framed them or made them even larger than normal. He was lean and wiry, and the shortest of the three.

Now, Edward – insert dreamy sigh here – was the happiest medium of all… even though he was totally different to both Jasper and Emmett. Edward had the most startling green eyes that were ever made, I swear. They glistened constantly, and always contained that little twinkle I only ever thought existed in heinously corny Disney movies. His hair – oh, his hair – was an intriguing shade of bronze, that when placed under natural sunlight, glinted with hues of red, brown and gold.

He was perfectly placed height-wise, not as short as Jasper and not as tall as Emmett. The top of my head fit perfectly under his chin.

"Emmett!" When the big oaf turned around, I asked, "What've they got today?"

"What have they got that you would like, you mean?"

When I impatiently nodded _yes, _he looked back at the trays underneath the glass. "Um, pepperoni pizza… Fettuccine Carbonara… Coca-Cola…"

Oooh, Fettuccine Carbonara. My favourite.

When I reached the lunch lady's position, I motioned towards the pasta and grabbed a Coke for myself.

Turning around, I accidently slammed into someone. "Oops, sorry."

"No worries, Bella. Hey, do you mind if Rose and I sit with you today?"

Ah, Alice Brandon. The most beautiful soul that ever existed, I'm telling you. She was short, just shy of 5", but she was bright and endearing and Jasper had the biggest crush on her. Not even kidding.

Her short-cut hair stuck up in all directions from her incessant bouncing, and her eyes were almost purple. A lot of the time, she was called or described as a pixie, but I liked to think she was more like a wood nymph, or something… She tended to gravitate towards outside areas, and dressed in flowy dresses in earthen tones and stuff. I don't know how I even knew that, I wasn't an expert on fashion – that was Rosalie Hale's area of expertise.

Rosalie Hale was a dream girl - beautiful, round, blue eyes; golden, wavy, hip length hair; fantastic body and legs for days. She was currently very close to receiving an internship at the only fashion magazine in Forks – and it wasn't even in Forks, it was in Port Angeles – but right on the border. You could show her an item of designer clothing and she could rattle off in an instant the designer, fabrics it was made from, the date of release into stores and everything else imaginable.

She also was harbouring a little attraction towards Mister McCarty, but only Alice and I knew that.

I happened to think I paled in comparison to the beautiful people I hung around with, but that was my opinion. I'm taller than Alice, but shorter than Rosalie, with brown eyes that showed too much emotion for my liking and dominated my heart-shaped face. My brown hair was rather unco-operative and so was generally left hanging down my shoulders and framing my face, and more often than not would end up in a loose bun on top of my head at the end of the day.

"Of course not, Alice – you sit with us almost every day; you don't need to ask anymore!" I laughed.

She laughed and nodded before taking her place in the line. I walked back over to my table, narrowly avoiding a verbal and, no doubt, emotional scrape with Jessica, Lauren and their newest addition, Tanya Denali. That girl was one nasty piece of work. Her sisters were totally different: nice, polite, charming.

Not her. She was vile, loathsome and downright… she was just bad. Anyway.

I lifted the tray of food above my head and squeezed through the tables and pulled out chairs before reaching our table again. After I set my food down, I said, "Shmalice and Rose are sitting with us today." I'd taken to called Alice by that ridiculous nickname three days after I met her in our sophomore year.

I almost laughed as Jasper's ears went pink and a cute blush rose to his cheeks. You know, the urge to pinch someone's cheeks can be almost too much…

I shoved a forkful of pasta into my mouth to stop myself from giggling at his embarrassment and turned to face Emmett, whose cheeks were bulging with the copious amount of pepperoni pizza that he could fit into his mouth.

I shook my head and laughed. He really was an idiot…

Emmett took a large gulp and swallowed the masticated food, before asking, "Hey, Bella? Before the girls get here, can you belch the alphabet? It makes me laugh." He wistfully sighed at the end and placed his face in his palm.

"Really?"

He nodded.

"Okay… no."

"Yay!" He hoorayed. "Wait, what? Why not?"

"I really don't feel like it today, Em…"

"So, nothing – _nothing – _could make you do it?"

I shook my head.

"Not even a dare?"

He wouldn't. Our group took dares very seriously, and it was not received well by any members of the group if one of us refused.

I gaped openly at him. "No…" It came out as a breathy whimper.

"Isabella Marie Swan, I dare – no, _double dare _you to belch the alphabet. Right here, right now."

"I hate you, Emmett Raymond McCarty." He flinched – he'd never really liked his middle name. "Okay, hold on." I cracked open my Coke and took a large gulp of the fizzy liquid. Standing up, I ran around in a few circles and jumped up and down on the spot a few times.

Shaking my hands, which were placed firmly by my side, in preparation, I took a deep breath and…

"A…B…C…D…E…F…G…H…I…J…K…L…M…N…O…P…Q…R…S…T…U…V…W…X…Y…Z!" I finished with a flourish and a bow.

Emmett giggled and laughed like a schoolgirl… a manly schoolgirl.

Jasper and Edward chuckled, until Alice and Rose came over to the table. Jasper's ears went pink once more and he slunk a little in his seat – and I'm pretty sure from my angle, I could see him wiping sweaty hands on his jean legs.

I plopped back down in my seat and received a hearty clap on the back from Emmett. Bad mistake, sitting next to that boy, I tell you.

Alice looked at me. "Bella, please tell me that that hideous belching sound was not coming from such a delicate, _feminine _being like you…" She clearly knew it was. She had that look that said, _Don't you lie to me. I was right there. I know. _

I laughed nervously. "Nope, not me at all."

Rose piped up from her seat in between Emmett and Edward. "Liar."

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**Que reviews?**


	2. Cally and Kungfu, Kind Of

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**A/N: **I have to say, I was a bit disappointed in the lack of response to this story, but I'm only new to the Twilight side of FF, so hopefully it will pick up, yeah?

Second chapter!

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_And I chose guitar over ballet,  
and I'd take these suckers down, cause they just get in my way. _

Alice shook her head, and turned back to her food. It was almost as if she were ashamed of me… but why?

… Whatever, I didn't really care.

The rest of lunch was spent as normally as possible – the boys acting like monkeys and the girls reprimanding them with flirty slaps on the arms… and me, watching them and wishing I could flirtily slap Edward's arm without seeming like a mental case.

All of a sudden my body was being jolted around, and I felt a hand pressing on my shoulder. Slapping it away, I looked at the hideous perpetrator that had broken my morbid train of thought.

Ah, Alice – wait, why was she shaking me?

"What the hell?"

"Uh, Bella, the bell just went." She explained – the _duh _implied in her tone.

"Oh." I muttered dumbly.

She hooked her arm through mine and pulled me up from the table, barely allowing me enough time to gather my books before she dragged me in the opposite direction of my classroom.

"Alice!" She stopped and looked at me. "Where are you taking me?"

"We're off to Dance, silly!"

She actually thought I did Dance. I could barely stand still without falling flat on my face and she thinks that me, of all people, did Dance? I would laugh, but that wouldn't be nice.

"Uh, Alice? I don't dance."

"What do you mean, "You don't dance"?" She whispered, seemingly mortified. "How can that be?"

"Well, I can't walk three feet without stumbling and I'm about as graceful as… well, something _very ungraceful_. So," I purposefully elongated the _oh_, "… I chose Music instead."

"Music? Why would you choose music?" She cried. "Don't you want to feel like you can fly like a bird on the wind? Dance is the greatest joy there is." She waved her arms dramatically.

"Hahaha… no." I stared at her blankly. "I'll stick with trusty Excalibur."

"Excalibur?" She asked incredulously. "Who is Excalibur?"

A giant pair of arms wrapped around my shoulders. Emmett.

He gasped theatrically. "How could you not know about the wondrous Excalibur?"

Alice glared. "Oh, for God's sake, you lump of meat! Tell me! Who is Excalibur?"

I was about to open my mouth when two voices chimed in from behind us: "Excalibur is the greatest guitar to ever be played by any human being. It is Bella's pride and joy."

Well done, boys. I had drilled that phrase into their minds over and over… unintentionally, of course. I was excited about the reception of my new purple acoustic guitar and would not stop talking about the wonders of "Excalibur", as I had named it.

Alice gaped. "You chose a _guitar _over the most feminine of dances?"

"Um, yes…?"

She gasped. "But – What – _How_?"

"I don't dance, Alice. I couldn't if I tried."

"I will never understand you, Bella. Sometimes you can be such a… such a _guy…_"

Well, strike a light.

That's something I've never heard before. Never in my whole life have I been called a _guy._

I barely noticed Alice and Rosalie flitting away, with excuses of "We need to get changed into our leotards…" and "Mrs Johnson won't be happy if we don't get there early enough to stretch…"

Me? A boy? I knew I wasn't the most feminine person, but surely – _surely – _I wasn't that manly in my behaviour… Was I?

I was so confused, and I could feel my thought process wandering onto more fretful thoughts… _What if all Edward will ever see me as is a boy? What if no-one ever likes me, because I act too much like a boy?_

My eyes clouded over and I took a massive breath to keep the tears at bay.

Edward wrapped his arms around my waist and the places where his skin touched mine immediately came alive with little sparks transmitting from those places to the rest of my body.

"Don't worry about her… She just doesn't understand." Understand what? "Come on, let's get to Music. Once you start playing Excalibur, you'll forget all about it…"

I nodded weakly and walked to Music, trying to ignore the whispering boys that were walking behind me and the pitying glances all three gave me as they passed me when I was holding the door open for them.

Mr McGovern took his place at the front of the classroom and cleared his throat. "Today, I will be giving you your first assessment of the year." The class collectively groaned. Secretly, I smiled. "It is a performance, and each of you will choose two pieces to play or sing to the class."

I glanced over at Edward. I knew exactly what I was going to sing about. Kind of. Chatter filled the classroom as students discussed their performance pieces and what they thought everyone else would do.

The teacher stopped talking to a girl in the first row about the assessment and addressed the class. "Get started. You know where the guitars are, as do you know where the keyboards and pianos are as well. Go on then, get crackin'."

I jumped up from my chair, ran to the back of the room, grabbed Excalibur off his hook on the wall and raced into the adjoining Music room. No-one ever used this room besides the boys and me, so I was safe in here, at least until they arrived – Jasper to use the keyboards, Edward to practice with the upright in the far left corner and Emmett to practice his electric riffs.

I sat on my chair, right up the back and flung Excalibur's strap over my shoulders and strummed the strings a couple of times.

I started to pick the strings a little bit, hoping to find some inspiration for song choices. I knew the kind of song I wanted to sing – unrequited love, that type of thing – but I had no idea which song to choose.

A hand pressing down on my shoulder broke my concentration and I jumped so hard, I fell of my chair and landed on my wrist. Sharp, shooting pains sprung upward from my elbow, but I wasn't concerned with that. I was more concerned with the fact that the loud thud that accompanied my fall was not _me, _but _Excalibur_, whose neck had hit the floor before I had.

"Oh, shit!" Edward hissed. "Bella, are you okay?" He knelt down beside me and cupped my face in his hand.

Oh gosh, tingles. Tingles _everywhere _and there was nothing I could do but blink back the tears springing to my eyes. Had I broken Excalibur?

"I'm sorry, Bella. I totally didn't mean to scare you that much!" I reached out for Excalibur, who he held in his smooth, long-fingered hand after taking it from me. "What?"

"Give me Excalibur!" I pleaded.

"Why?" He asked, confusion present on his face.

"I want to see if he's okay!" I hissed.

"You are worried about a guitar, when you could have sprained your arm? I don't understand you, Bella."

"I'm used to hurting myself, so pain is second nature." I explained. "Now, give me Excalibur!"

"Bella, you need to see the nurse, so I'm not giving you Excalibur until you do."

I slumped on the floor. "I do not need to see the nurse. I can move my arm perfectly fine. See?" I stretched out my arm, and was glad to see it stretch almost all the way out. I stretched it even further and winced when it was flexed all the way out. I hoped to God that Edward hadn't noticed, but obviously he had, as he raised an eyebrow and shook his head at me.

I tried to protest with an "I'm fine", but he interrupted with a firm wave of his hand… and then he dragged me to the other room.

"Mr McGovern? Mr McGovern!" When Mr McGovern turned around, Edward continued. "Bella's hurt, and I think she needs to see the school nurse."

Mr McGovern nodded. "Go ahead, Edward." He wouldn't have ever trusted me like that.

He pulled me by my good arm out the door and down the hallway. "Hey! I can walk by myself, you know!"

He immediately released my arm and looked back at me with remorse. "Sorry! Sorry! Did I hurt you, at all?"

I shook my head. He really was rather overprotective. He'd make a great father one day, really caring, you know?

_Fuckity-fuck-fuck. _A really great father?

Jesus, the man probably had no interest in me on a higher level than platonic and I'd already started contemplating his paternal habits? That's a tiny bit obsessed.

"Let's go, then." He chirped, and pulled me out into the hallway.

Six turns, fourteen stumbles and a very close encounter with a wet patch on the floor, we had reached the nurse's office and another half-hour later she'd pronounced me "perfectly fine to go back to class".

Thank God. I was happy all the way back to the music classroom, until I looked at my timetable and realised I had Art next – my only class without the boys – and consequently, the one class that I had with El Bitch-o Supremo… That's right, everyone, the one and only Jane Volturi.

An Italian transfer and, despite her blond hair, blue eyes, petite stature and overall demure appearance, she was the biggest bitch I'd ever met. Shmeriously.

Throwing all thoughts of the bitch out the door, I moved my wrist in a circular motion and tested my arm – and it was already feeling better. I grimaced at Edward, who was now talking to Mr McGovern.

I put my timetable back in my folder, and returned that to my over-the-shoulder bag, hanging casually on the back of my chair as it usually did in Music, and when I looked up, Edward was gone. I looked around the room, trying to find him, trying to locate his lean stature, bronze hair or jade eyes.

To be honest, I was beginning to panic – and that just wasn't like me.

I looked over to where the door to the other room was and noticed the flash of copper hair flitting past the small glass window. It was like a gravitational pull – I immediately began walking back over to the room – almost as if I had tunnel vision.

On the way over, however – and I shouldn't have been surprised considering my previous relationships with the floor - a stray bag strap tripped me up, and I only just caught myself before I'd face-planted into the ugly blue and orange carpet.

"Shitake mushrooms." I grunted.

Slipping my foot out of the bag's dangerous grasp, I waded my way through the students and instruments until I made it through the doorway safely. I had my head turned around, looking through the six inch window, when I collided with the most ginormous mass of… something I'd ever collided into.

I snapped my head around and looked up at the smiling, overly-joyful face of the big brute. "Hey, squirt. I saw that little tumble." He looked at the watch on his wrist. "Twice in forty minutes – that's a record, I believe."

"Shut your face, McCarty."

He chuckled boisterously and moved to the side, allowing me to pass through. The three heads left inside – Jasper, Edward and, now, Ben Cheney – swivelled round to gaze at me.

Edward reached over and grabbed Excalibur from where he was resting up against an old-fashioned school desk and held him out to me. Gleefully, I ran over and clutched him to my chest. "Oh, Cally, I'll never leave you again!" What can I say? I was melodramatic with the gosh-darn guitar.

Jasper chuckled, Edward raised a sardonic eyebrow and Ben Cheney smiled widely. I pulled over a wheelie chair from one of the "computerised" desks and sat down, settling Cally on my knee.

At that point, right as I was about to strum my first chord, the bell went – loudly. I jumped and Edward reflexively held out an arm, almost as if he were preparing to catch me if I fell again. Talk about mortifying.

I glanced at his arm, then his face and noticed a pale pink rise in his cheeks. What in God's name was he blushing for? He wasn't the one who stacked it every ten seconds.

I smiled and he grinned. This is where most would have sighed and giggled – but not me. I flushed like tomato in the spring and hung my head, hoping to whatever deity was up there that my hair would hide my face.

I scurried out of the room quickly, grabbing and flinging my bag over my head on the way to the guitar wall. Hanging Cally back on his hook, I turned, waved goodbye to the boys – who had just come out of the room – and raced off to Art.

I made it all the way to the Art block without falling over something or someone and had barely enough time to congratulate myself before a hideous, high-pitched, nasally voice pierced my brain, almost crippling me for life.

"Well, if it isn't Ug."

Yep, Jane Volturi's ingenious nickname for me was Ug – short for Ugly Duckling, I believe. She'd called me that on our third day of freshman year, and it had taken me weeks to figure out where she'd got it from, before Jasper – god love the boy – explained it all.

Bella Swan equals Beautiful Swan.

What classic fairytale depicts beautiful swans? The Ugly Duckling, of course.

Only, she assumed that I was that little, grey thing, flapping my wings about, wishing I was a "Beautiful Swan". I wasn't beautiful in any sense of the word, but I wasn't ugly – I knew that much.

"Why, hello, Jane." I said amicably. I don't know why I didn't just smack her down like the hand of God.

She gasped as if I'd just flashed her and her little cronies everything I had. "How dare you?"

I tilted my head, hopefully pulling of the innocent, I-don't-know-what-you-are-talking-about look. It was popular in situations like these, I suppose. "What _ever_ do you mean?"

"You, Ug, are not fit to greet me." Was she for real? What a bitch.

I dropped my bag on the ground and bowed as far down as possible. "I apologise, _Your Majesty, _for I was out of line."

"Gosh, Ug. You are so dramatic…"

"Oh, but Jane! That title must go to you!"

"What title, idiot? I never said anything about a _title._" Her little cronies tittered in amusement.

"Oh, forgive me." I smiled sarcastically. "Drama Queen. That title is only deserving of someone as fitting as you."

Her hand twitched beside her and I knew what was going to happen next. Her perfectly manicured hand swung violently towards my face, but I – being the superior woman that I am – was just too quick for her, and caught her wrist before her hand could cross the thirty centimetre mark.

No sooner had I caught the bony, little wrist in my hand and heard a chorus of squeaks and gasps from her band of merry – uh – women, had I had her arm twisted behind her and her face smushed into the bricked wall that surrounded the outside sink and gas area of the art room.

She struggled, but she was too weak. I almost couldn't resist letting out an evil bellow, or something else that was too Emmett-like for me to even fathom – but instead, I just smirked and said, "Try that again, and you'll regret it, Volturi."

I released her and walked into the art room without looking back.

Damn, the boy's would be proud.

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**Okay, there's a reference to a really popular TV show in there. E... Brownies! Yes, e-brownies to anyone who can get it!**


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